THE END OF THE REIGN, 1602-1603.
[Sidenote: The Spaniards still feared.]
Starvation by means of garrisons was Mountjoy's prescription for
the Irish malady, and this treatment he pursued to the end. But he
continued to dread Spanish intervention, for, in common with most
Englishmen of his time, he overestimated what was really a decaying and
impoverished power. Cecil knew better, and throughout the spring and
early summer of 1602 he continued to write in a rather contemptuous
tone of Spanish intentions. In August he was able to say positively
that there would be no invasion in force, though he could not promise
that Philip would not send a few forlorn companies to keep up some
sort of reputation in Europe, to put the Queen to cost, and 'to fill
the world with continual rumour of his undertaking humour.' To Carew
he wrote in the same strain, and with still greater freedom. It was
impossible to keep Spanish ships from Irish harbours, 'whereof there
be more than the Queen hath ships,' but the coast of Spain might be
so harassed as to give them enough to do at home. Sir Richard Leveson
was better employed taking carracks in the Tagus than he could be in
Ireland, and between Hollanders and Englishmen the Catholic King was
not likely to have many men to spare. But the Queen would not grudge
the necessary outlay to make Cork, Kinsale, and some minor posts
defensible. Thus encouraged, Mountjoy was free to attack Ulster, and he
proceeded slowly, but surely, to draw the net round Tyrone.[398]
[Sidenote: Docwra and Chichester in Ulster.]
Docwra was supposed to have between three and four thousand men in
Derry and Donegal, Chichester nearly 1,000 at Carrickfergus; and
about 800 more were in Lecale and in the garrisons at Mount Norris,
Armagh, Blackwater, and Newry. Mountjoy had over 3,000 under his own
command, and at the beginning of June he advanced to Dundalk. Docwra
had established a post at Omagh, and had no difficulty in joining the
Lord Deputy at Dungannon, while Chichester ferried his contingent over
Lough Neagh. Tyrone, who had laid Dungannon in ashes, was forced out
of his country into the almost inaccessible wilds of Glenconkein, and
his deserted strongholds were taken. In one three guns were recovered,
probably those taken at Blackwater. A new fort was built and manned
at Mountjoy on Lough Neagh. Provisions falling short in July, Docwra
was sent back to collect and victual a force at Omagh, with which
Chichester, who now had hopes of 'soon beheading that wood-kerne
Tyrone,' could co-operate from his fortified post at Castle Toome
on Lough Neagh. Mountjoy retired towards Monaghan, taking all the
small strengths in that direction, though not entirely without loss
from sharp-shooters, and wrote home to urge the positive necessity
of keeping the garrisons on foot. Tyrone was now driven from place
to place like a hunted hare; but if the efforts to run him down were
allowed to relax, he would gain strength quickly, and all the work
would have to be done over again.[399]
[Sidenote: The Queen disinclined to spare Tyrone.]
Tyrone was now begging earnestly for mercy, but the fate of Essex
warned Mountjoy against meddling with so dangerous a person. The
rebel would not come in upon his bare word, nor would he give that
word; for to detain him afterwards would be dishonourable, while he
might be blamed for letting him go. He could only urge that while
Tyrone was lowest was the best time to bring him to terms. After much
hesitation the Queen was induced to promise him his life, but through
Mountjoy only, and without divulging anything to the Council. Cecil
saw no reason why she should not publish it to all the world. If peace
could only be dreamed of, he said, 'for saving of Christian blood
and of miseries of her natural people from hence hourly sent to the
shambles! ... but her Majesty is the kingdom, and myself her humble
vassal.' Negotiations went on through the latter half of 1602, and in
the meantime Mountjoy prosecuted the war. He gave out publicly that the
Queen had resolved never to pardon Tyrone, but let him know that he
himself might possibly become a suitor for him. That depended on how
he behaved; 'and yet,' he wrote, 'I have told him that I will cut his
throat in the meantime if I can.'[400]
[Sidenote: Carew reduces Munster.]
Carew had nominally nearly 5,000 men to complete the reduction of
Munster, but the real number was much less. Nearly half of the
available force was sent, under Thomond's command, to ravage the
country west of Kinsale and on both sides of Bantry Bay. Carew himself
left Cork six weeks later, and made his first halt on Tyrone's late
camping-ground near Carrigaline. Nights were spent at Timoleague,
Rosscarbery, and Castle Haven, and Baltimore was reached on the fifth
day. In crossing the mountains between Skibbereen and Bantry Bay slight
resistance was made by some of the O'Driscolls and O'Sullivans, but
Dunnemark was reached in safety on the eighth day from Cork. This
place is called Carew Castle by the President, who is careful to note
that it belonged to his ancestors, and that the Irish name was derived
from their title of marquis. It is two miles to the north of Bantry,
and was found a convenient place to collect the cattle and ponies
of the neighbouring country. An O'Daly, whose ancestors had been
hereditary bards of the old Carews, was here caught tampering with Owen
O'Sullivan, and was sent for trial to Cork. The Spaniards in Dunboy
were warned that they could expect no quarter if they remained there.
If they left before the siege began they would be sent safely to Spain,
and Carew suggested that they might deserve greater favour by spiking
the guns or disabling the carriages before they came away. No notice
was taken of this message, and the army lay at Dunnemark until all was
ready for the attack on Dunboy.[401]
[Sidenote: Kerry.]
Early in February Carew sent Sir Charles Wilmot to Kerry with a force
sufficient to overcome what remained of the rebellion there. Lixnaw
Castle was taken, and Lord Fitzmaurice driven away into the mountains
of Desmond. Carrigafoyle was found deserted and partly dismantled. The
Dingle peninsula was thoroughly ransacked, the castles all taken, and
the Knight of Kerry driven into Desmond. The cattle in Iveragh were
also collected, and their owners forced into the woods of Glengariffe.
Wilmot's road to Bantry Bay lay by Mucross and Mangerton--'a most
hideous and uncouth mountain'--and great preparations were made to
attack him by the way. Carew moved up as far as Carriganass, and in
the end the Irish showed no fight, though trees had been felled and
breastworks erected at every point of vantage. The junction of the two
forces was effected, and on the same day ships came from Cork. The army
had provisions left for only two days, and would have been forced to
retreat but for this seasonable aid.[402]
[Sidenote: Dunboy Castle.]
Dermot Moyle MacCarthy, Florence's brother, had been in Ulster the year
before, and Carew had then declared his intention to plague him on his
return. He thought him both wiser and braver than Florence himself, and
certainly more popular with the scattered swordsmen--half soldiers,
half caterans--who still maintained the rebellion. Reduced to want by
Carew and Wilmot, this chief took some cows belonging to MacCarthy
Reagh, and while fighting for their possession was killed by his own
first cousin. To prevent his head from being exposed at Cork, as the
President had threatened, the dead man was conveyed to Timoleague Abbey
and there buried by a friar with great solemnity. After this it was
judged impossible to take a military train round by Glengariffe, and
it was decided to cross Bantry Bay. Tyrrell seems to have understood
that the game was up, and would have been ready to join Thomond; but
the Jesuit Archer prevented him, and he failed to come to the parley
which he had himself asked for. The weather was very bad all this time,
which the superstitious attributed to Archer's conjury, but Carew said
he hoped soon to conjure his head into a halter. And yet he was not
altogether incredulous himself. 'The country of Bere,' he wrote, 'is
full of witches. Between them and Archer I do partly believe the devil
hath been raised to serve their turn.' Nevertheless Thomond established
himself in Bere Island by June 1, and here he had an interview with
Richard MacGeohegan, who held Dunboy for O'Sullivan. The Earl argued
that the castle must fall, and urged the constable to gain credit
by yielding it in time, while the latter tried to make out that the
besiegers ran upon certain defeat, and could never even land in face of
such strong fortifications. Neither persuaded the other, and Carew went
on with his preparations.[403]
[Sidenote: Carew at Berehaven]
In spite of the witches, the army was transported into Bere Island
without much difficulty. The sandy bay near Dunboy was found strongly
fortified, and Carew resolved to make a false attack. The little island
of Dinish was seized and two guns mounted on it, the fire of which
occupied the defenders of the works on shore. The main body was then
quietly ferried across Berehaven to a point westward of Dinish and
close to Castletown. High ground hid the landing-place from the castle,
and when the stratagem was at last discovered the Irish had to go round
a deep creek. They found Carew's men ready for them, and were worsted
in the skirmish which followed. Tyrrell was wounded. Archer narrowly
escaped, leaving his missal behind him, as well as a servant, who was
immediately executed. On the morrow a camp was pitched half a mile to
the north-east. Next day the work of entrenching began, materials for
gabions having to be brought from a wood nearly two miles away. The
artillery was landed in full view of the castle and without damage from
its fire, but Carew did not begin to batter until the eleventh day
after landing. In the meantime the Irish had taken courage from the
arrival of a Spanish vessel at Kilmakilloge in Kenmare Bay. She brought
12,000_l._, much ammunition, and letters urging the Irish chiefs to
remain firm. But perhaps the most important part of the cargo was Owen
MacEgan, Bishop-designate of Ross and Vicar Apostolic or Nuncio, for
he is called by both titles, who had absolute ecclesiastical authority
over all Munster. He was able to impress the defenders of Dunboy with
the idea that a great Spanish force would immediately come to their
relief, and they imagined that they could hold out for two or three
months.[404]
[Sidenote: An island stronghold.]
The Irish had built a small fort in the island of Dursey, which they
intended for their last refuge. It was defended by forty men and three
pieces of Spanish artillery. Captain Bostock and Owen O'Sullivan
were sent by Carew, with 160 men, to reduce this remote stronghold.
The water being tolerably smooth, the Queen's pinnace was brought
up near enough to attack from the sea side, and the bulk of the men
were landed in boats. The soldiers showed so much dash in assaulting
the fort that the garrison came out and surrendered as soon as the
outwork was forced. They were taken to Carew's camp, and all executed.
Owen O'Sullivan recovered his wife, who had been O'Sullivan Bere's
prisoner since February. In this out-of-the way place Bostock found no
less than 500 milch cows, besides wheat and oil, and the existence of
such islands goes far to explain the long resistance of West Munster.
Nothing could be done against them without ships, and ships were very
seldom available.[405]
[Sidenote: Capture of Dunboy.]
[Sidenote: Two desperate men.]
Carew was a good artilleryman, as artillery was in his days, and he
promised that Dunboy should fall within seven days after he had opened
fire. Others expected a longer siege, but he was much better than
his word. The fire of four guns, concentrated upon the castle, made
it untenable within twenty-four hours. Tyrrell's attempt upon the
camp had been fruitless, and it was plain that there was no chance of
relief. After four hours' fire a turret fell in, burying many under its
ruins. In another four hours the west front of the castle collapsed,
and dice were cast to decide who should lead the stormers. The post
of honour and danger fell to Captain Doddington's company, and his
lieutenant, Francis Kirton, was the first man to enter the breach.
Kirton was wounded in three places, but he made good his ground, and
Carew's colours were soon planted on a commanding point of the works.
The besiegers still fought, but their guns were carried with a rush,
and the whole place was now commanded. Forty men tried to escape by
sea, but armed boats guarded that side, and they were killed. Among
them was Melaghlin O'More, the man who pulled Ormonde off his horse
when he was captured two years before. Seventy-seven men were left, and
would have surrendered at sunset upon promise of life only; but this
was denied, and the Jesuit Dominick O'Colan came out by himself. Next
morning, twenty-six more gave themselves up, including two Spaniards
and one Italian, who were all that remained of the foreign gunners.
MacGeohegan was mortally wounded, and Thomas Taylor, an Englishman's
son, but married to Tyrrell's niece, was chosen commander in his room.
Taylor shut himself up in the vault with nine barrels of powder, and
with a lighted match in his hand swore to blow all up unless he and
his companions were promised their lives. His men prevented this,
and forty-eight surrendered at discretion with him. When the English
officers entered, they found MacGeohegan still living. With a lighted
candle in his hand, he staggered towards an open powder-barrel, but
Captain Power held him back, and the soldiers killed him. Of the 140
picked men who composed the garrison, not one escaped. The powder was
then spent in blowing up the walls, and the castle, from which so much
had been expected, was laid level with the ground.[406]
[Sidenote: Fate of the survivors.]
[Sidenote: A Jesuit.]
In this, as in every such Irish siege, the actual capture was
comparatively easy; the real difficulty was to reach these distant
strongholds, and to maintain an army in the wilds. The garrison,
champions of a lost cause and dupes of a feeble tyrant, deserved a
better fate; but Carew showed no mercy. Of the survivors fifty-eight
were at once 'hanged in pairs by the Earl of Thomond.' Twelve of
Tyrrell's best men were respited for a time, but were also hanged
when that leader declared that he would remain true to his master the
King of Spain. Taylor was taken to Cork, and hanged in chains near
the north gate on the discovery that he had taken a principal part in
George Bingham's murder. O'Colan, whom the English called Collins,
was closely examined at Cork, and Catholic accounts say that he was
tortured. He gave no useful information, but freely told the strange
story of his own life. Born at Youghal, and educated at a Jesuit
school there, he went at the age of seventeen to France, made some
money as a waiter in inns, and served the League for nine or ten years
under the Duke of Mercoeur. He rose to the rank of captain; and was
recommended to the King of Spain by Don Juan D'Aguila, who was then
in Brittany. Coming under the influence of the Jesuit Thomas White of
Clonmel, who was rector of the Irish seminary at Salamanca, he was
admitted, after a time, to the Society of Jesus, whose principles,
we are told, he preferred to Dominican vigour or Franciscan rigour,
but not to full priest's orders; and Archer, who knew him only by
reputation, asked that he might accompany him to Ireland. His military
knowledge was perhaps thought useful at Dunboy. After keeping him a
prisoner for about four months, Carew found that nothing would be
gained by preserving his life, and he was hanged, drawn, and quartered
at Youghal, meeting his fate with the greatest courage and in a manner
most edifying to his co-religionists.[407]
[Sidenote: O'Donnell in Spain.]
[Sidenote: Death and character of Hugh Roe O'Donnell.]
The fall of Dunboy prevented the King of Spain from sending prompt
help, but he did not give up the idea. Rumours of fresh invasions
were rife during the summer, and sooner or later O'Donnell might have
returned with another army. That chief had sailed from Castle Haven
immediately after the battle of Kinsale, and fugitives from Munster
continued to join him whenever opportunity offered. He landed at
Corunna, and went straight to the King at Zamora. Falling upon his
knees he obtained favourable replies to three requests: that an army
should be sent to Ireland; that the King, when he gained Ireland,
would set no O'Donnell over him or his successors; and that he would
never deny any right that the O'Donnells had ever had. Philip sent him
back to Galicia, then under the government of his zealous friend, the
Marquis of Caraçena. Exiles are ever sanguine, and he professed to have
no doubt of ultimate success; but Spanish vacillation sorely tried his
impatient spirit. When the surrender of Kinsale became known in Spain,
some vessels intended for Ireland were unloaded, and Don Juan's report
was unfavourable. The disgrace of that unsuccessful commander revived
O'Donnell's credit, and the ship which brought over Bishop MacEgan and
his 12,000_l._ was despatched. O'Donnell began to despair of a great
fleet, and begged to be allowed to go with a few small vessels. He
asked his friends in Ireland to let him know the whole truth, but to
keep bad news from Spanish ears. This, of course, could not be done,
and the arrival of Archer and a crowd of fugitives after the disaster
at Dunboy, must have outweighed all his arguments. He sought the King
again at Simancas, and there he died after an illness of seventeen
days. His body was carried, with great pomp, to the royal palace at
Valladolid, and buried in the Franciscan monastery with every mark of
respect. His solemn requiem was the death-song of the Irish tribal
system. Much romance cleaves to his name, but his ideas scarcely rose
above those of an ordinary chief. Local supremacy was his main object,
and the panegyric of the annalists fails to raise him to the height of
a national hero. He was, they say, 'the vehement, vigorous, stern, and
irresistible destroyer of his English and Irish opposers.' He died at
thirty, but there is nothing to show that he would have even attempted
the task of building a stable edifice with the shifting sands of Irish
life.[408]
[Sidenote: Assassination plots.]
The Irish accounts do not suggest foul play, but Carew believed that
O'Donnell had been poisoned by one James Blake, of Galway, who had
announced his intention of killing him. Blake was not hired by Carew,
but he would hardly have made him his confidant if he had not expected
reward, and he it was who brought the first news of O'Donnell's death
to Munster. John Anias, who had been implicated in a plot to murder
Elizabeth, had offered to kill Florence MacCarthy, and afterwards gave
out that he had been suborned by Cecil to poison that troublesome
person. Cecil and Carew employed Anias as a spy, but denied that he
had ever said anything about poison, and had him hanged out of the
way as soon as he could be caught. Neither Blake nor Anias would have
dared to speak of such things to a modern statesman, but the morality
of that age was different. A similar suspicion attaches to the death
of Hugh O'Donnell's brother, Rory, afterwards Earl of Tyrconnell. An
Italian came to Sir Henry Wotton, who was then ambassador at Venice,
and offered to kill Tyrone or Tyrconnell, but without mentioning their
names or even seeming to know them correctly. Wotton said the Earls
were of no importance, having run away because they could do no harm
at home. No doubt proclaimed rebels might be justly slain; 'yet,'
he added, 'it was somewhat questionable whether it might be done
honourably, your Majesty having not hitherto proceeded to the open
proscription of them to destruction abroad, neither was it a course so
familiar and frequent with us as in other states.' Three months later
Tyrconnell and his page died rather mysteriously at Rome, others of his
party also sickening. Roman fever was probably to blame, though Wotton
seems to have half-suspected poisoning, but in the interest of the
papacy, and not of the King of England.'[409]
[Sidenote: Last struggles in Connaught.]
When O'Donnell sailed for Spain he left his brother Rory in charge of
the clan, who led them through all Munster and Connaught. The vast
herds which Hugh had taken from his neighbours were found grazing
peacefully in Sligo, and Ballymote was given up by O'Gallagher to the
acting chief. Sir Niel Garv was co-operating with Docwra, and kept his
rival out of Donegal; but Rory allied himself with O'Connor Sligo,
and sought help from Brian O'Rourke against Sir Oliver Lambert, who
was pressing him from the Connaught side. Tibbot-ne-Long and others
of the lower Burkes solicited Lambert's help, and he came up from
Galway with a strong force, while O'Rourke fought for his own hand
and refused to help O'Donnell. Lambert says he might easily have been
stopped either at Ballina or Ballysadare, but he reached Sligo without
serious fighting. The town had been burned by O'Connor, and the castle
was in ruins. O'Donnell passed his cattle over the Curlews, and across
the Shannon into Leitrim. Lambert, though camping in places 'where no
Christians have been since the war begun,' could never catch him, but
took 200 cows and a keg of Spanish powder. When the English were in
Leitrim, and when Leitrim was invaded in turn, O'Donnell was safe in
Roscommon; but Lambert established communications with his friends at
Ballyshannon. The O'Malleys and O'Flaherties infested the coast, and
Sir Oliver had to provide a galley with fifty mariners and fifteen oars
on a side, for these pirates spared no one, and Bingham had found it
necessary to take similar precautions. Lambert thought Sligo would be a
dainty place for a gentleman if walled, and he placed a garrison there,
which was able to maintain itself until the end of the war.[410]
[Sidenote: Progress of Docwra in Ulster.]
The absence both of Tyrone and of Hugh Roe O'Donnell in Munster left
a comparatively clear field to Sir Henry Docwra; 'the country void,
and no powerful enemy to encounter withal, more than the rivers.'
Castle Derg and Newtown (Stewart), both lately garrisoned, had since
been betrayed by Tirlogh Magnylson, a follower of Sir Arthur O'Neill,
who had become a favourite with the English officers. Tirlogh first
curried favour with Captain Atkinson at Newtown by helping him to
seize some cattle. Having dined with this officer, he persuaded him
to take a walk outside the castle. Three or four confederates suddenly
appeared, who made the captain prisoner, while others got possession of
the courtyard and of the hall-door. The soldiers 'lying in the Irish
thatched house' were all killed. Captain Dutton lost Castle Derg by a
similar stratagem. But in the absence of the great chiefs Docwra was
clearly the strongest man: O'Cahan's country was harried to punish
his perfidy, and even women and children were killed. Donegal was
victualled, and Ballyshannon, 'that long desired place,' taken and
garrisoned. Tirlogh Magnylson's turn soon came. Countrymen in Docwra's
pay pursued him from place to place, and his followers were killed one
by one without knowing their pursuers; those who were taken, says Sir
Henry, 'I caused the soldiers to hew in pieces with their swords.' The
hunted man travelled about the woods at night, sometimes occupying
three or four cabins successively, and lighting fires to attract
attention where he did not intend to stay. A boy was set to watch, and
at last the poor wretch was seen to take off his trousers and lie down.
Four men, says Docwra, 'with swords, targets, and morions, fell in upon
him; he gat up his sword for all that, and gave such a gash in one of
their targets as would seem incredible to be done with the arm of a
man, but they dispacht him and brought me his head the next day, which
was presently known to every boy in the army, and made a ludibrious
spectacle to such as listed to behold it.' Captain Dutton's betrayers
had better luck. They had killed no one, and were twice spared by
Docwra, after swearing 'with the most profound execrations upon
themselves, if they continued not true.' They broke out, nevertheless,
and the ringleaders kept the woods till Tyrone's submission, when they
were pardoned by Mountjoy's express command.[411]
[Sidenote: Mountjoy breaks up the O'Neill throne.]
Throughout the summer and autumn of 1602 Docwra and Chichester
continued steadily to reduce small strongholds, to drive cattle, and to
make a famine certain should Tyrone hold out till the spring. In August
Mountjoy again went northwards and planted a garrison at Augher. At
Tullaghogue, says Moryson, 'where the O'Neills were of old custom
created, he spent some five days, and there he spoiled the corn of all
the country, and Tyrone's own corn, and brake down the chair where the
O'Neills were wont to be created, being of stone, planted in the open
field.' But he could not get within twelve miles of the rebel Earl
himself, who had retreated into thick woods at the lower end of Lough
Erne, and who endeavoured to keep his friends together by letters in
which he urged them to make no separate terms for themselves; 'if you
do otherwise,' he said, 'stand to the hazard yourselves, for you shall
not have my consent thereunto.' One transient gleam of success rewarded
Rory O'Donnell and O'Connor Sligo. In an attempt to force the passage
of the Curlews from the Roscommon side a panic seized the English
soldiers, who may have remembered the fate of Sir Conyers Clifford, and
they fled in confusion to Boyle, but without any great loss.[412]
[Sidenote: Last struggle in Munster.]
It was in Munster that hopes of Spanish succour were strongest; but
Carew was able to send troops and supplies to help Mountjoy, and at the
same time to finish his own work. Sir Cormac MacDermot, the chief of
Muskerry, whose intriguing nature was well known to Carew, was found
to have received 800 ducats from Bishop Owen MacEgan, and to have
placed Blarney Castle at the disposal of the Spaniards. Captain Roger
Harvey was sent, on pretence of hunting the buck, to call at the castle
and ask for wine and usquebaugh, 'whereof Irish gentlemen are seldom
disfurnished,' and if possible to get possession of the place. But the
warders were on their guard, and Harvey could not even get into the
courtyard. Sir Cormac himself was at Cork, not having dared to refuse
attendance at the assizes, and his wife and children were also secured.
Finding himself in the lion's mouth, he ordered his people to surrender
Blarney, while he made preparations for his own escape. After dark on
the evening of Michaelmas-day he got out of the window in his shirt,
several gentlemen being outside to receive him. A passing Englishwoman
raised the alarm, but the runaway was befriended by town and country
and got safe away over the walls, only to find that he could do
nothing. His castle of Kilcrea had already surrendered, and Macroom
was taken, owing to an accidental fire which arose while the warders
were singeing a pig. No Spaniards were visible, and Tyrrell, who had
eaten up Bere and Bantry, proposed to quarter his men in Muskerry.
At last, towards the end of October, Sir Cormac came to Carew, and
sued for mercy on his knees. A protection was granted to him, for he
was helpless without his castles, his eldest son was at Oxford well
watched, and Tyrrell had destroyed his corn. Raleigh advised Elizabeth
not to pardon him, his country being worth her while to keep, and its
situation being such as to leave him always at her mercy. Orders were
accordingly given that his pardon should be withheld, at least until
he had provided an estate for his cousin Teig MacCormac, who had first
revealed his intrigues with the Spaniards.[413]
[Sidenote: Remarkable retreat of O'Sullivan Bere.]
[Sidenote: Passage of the Shannon.]
[Sidenote: A disinterested guide.]
O'Sullivan Bere still maintained himself in Glengariffe, but his
position had become hopeless. In December Tyrrell gave up the contest
and marched eighty miles without a halt from near Castleisland into
the King's County, 'leaving all his carriages and impediments, as
they tired, scattered to hazard.' Wilmot then attacked O'Sullivan's
position, and succeeded, after six hours' sharp fighting, in driving
off 2,000 cows, 4,000 sheep, and 1,000 hackneys. Sir John Shamrock's
son, William Burke, refused to stay a moment longer, cursing himself
for lingering in Munster and losing his brave followers. O'Sullivan was
thus forced to fly, and on the night of the 3rd of January he slipped
away, with all his family and retinue. When Wilmot came to his late
camping-ground he found only sick and wounded men, 'whose pains and
lives by the soldiers were both determined.' The fugitives had a sharp
skirmish with Lord Barry near Liscarroll, but reached the Shannon at
Portland on the ninth day, fighting all the way and not venturing to
turn aside after cattle, although often very hungry. Finding no boats,
they killed twelve horses, and Dermot O'Driscoll, who was used to the
canoes or _curraghs_ of the west-coast fishermen, constructed one
with osiers, twenty-six feet long, six feet wide, five feet deep, and
capable of holding thirty men. Eleven horseskins were used to cover
this ark, and the twelfth was devoted to a round vessel planned by
Daniel O'Malley and intended to carry ten men. The O'Malleys were more
given to the sea than even the O'Driscolls, but the round ferry-boat
sank, while the long one answered its purpose. Ormonde's sheriff of
Tipperary failed to prevent O'Sullivan from crossing the great river,
and he reached Aughrim on the eleventh day from Glengariffe. Sir
Thomas Burke, Clanricarde's brother, who had the help of some English
soldiers, attacked him here with a superior force, but was worsted
with loss after a hard fight, and O'Kelly's country was passed on the
same day. On the borders of Galway and Roscommon MacDavid Burke showed
the will, but not the power, to stop the fugitives, who eluded pursuit
by leaving great fires in the woods near Castlereagh. They suffered
horribly from snow and rain, their shoes were worn out, and their last
horses furnished a scanty meal. O'Connor Kerry's feet were a mass of
sores, and he reproached those members for their cowardice, which was
likely to imperil his head and his whole body. He struggled on with
the rest, and in a wood near Boyle, heaven, as the pious historian
believed, provided them with a guide. A barefooted man, in a linen
garment and with a white headdress, and carrying an iron-shod staff
in his hand, came to meet them. His appearance was such as to strike
terror, but he told O'Sullivan that he had heard of his glorious
victory at Aughrim, and was ready to lead him safely into O'Rourke's
country. O'Sullivan, who was perhaps less credulous than his kinsman,
secured the stranger's fidelity with 200 ducats, which he magnanimously
accepted, 'not as a reward, but as a sign of a grateful mind.' He lead
them by stony ways to Knockvicar near Boyle, where they bought food and
dried themselves at fires. The blood upon O'Connor's blisters hardened
with the heat, and he had to be carried by four men until they found
a lean and blind old horse, on whose sharp backbone the sufferer was
rather balanced than laid. The Curlews were safely passed, and at
daybreak on the sixteenth day of their pilgrimage O'Rourke's castle
of Leitrim was in sight. Of over a thousand persons who started from
Glengariffe, but eighteen soldiers, sixteen horseboys, and one woman
reached the house of refuge. A few more afterwards straggled in, but
the great bulk had died of wounds and exposure, or had strayed away
from their leaders. 'I wonder,' says the historian, 'how my father,
Dermot O'Sullivan, who was nearly seventy, or how any woman, was able
to sustain labours which proved too much for the most muscular young
men.' The distance traversed was about 175 miles as the crow flies.[414]
[Sidenote: Rory O'Donnell submits.]
[Sidenote: Tyrone sues for mercy.]
Like many chief governors before him, Mountjoy contemplated spending
much time at Athlone, and the Queen approved of this. He went there
in November 1602, and both Rory O'Donnell and O'Connor Sligo came to
him there before Christmas. Rory called to mind the hereditary loyalty
of his family since Henry VIII.'s days, adding that he himself had
agreed with Sir Conyers Clifford to serve against his brother Hugh,
and had been put in irons by him. O'Connor claimed to have brought in
Rory, and to have suffered likewise for his fidelity to Clifford. His
legs, he said, had never healed properly, being 'almost rotted' with
the irons. Tyrone lurked in Glenconkein in very wretched case, whence
he wrote in most humble terms, and, as he said, with a most penitent
heart. Mountjoy had sent back his last letter because it contained no
absolute submission. 'I know the Queen's merciful nature,' he now
said, 'though I am not worthy to crave for mercy.... Without standing
on any terms or conditions, I do hereby both simply and absolutely
submit myself to her Majesty's mercy.' Sir Christopher St. Laurence
conducted some negotiations on his own account, but the Lord Deputy
earnestly repudiated any knowledge of these, and continued almost to
the end to say that he might possibly intercede with the Queen, but
would do nothing more. Elizabeth's instinct told her that Tyrone was
no longer formidable unless she set him up again, and this it is most
probable she would have never done. A month after the letter last
quoted, and barely two months before the Queen's death, Mountjoy talked
of hunting the arch-traitor into the sea. He and Carew were together at
Galway soon after Christmas, and it was agreed that the latter should
go to England. Both of them wished to get away, but the Queen would not
hear of the Deputy quitting his post, nor would she let the President
go without his superior's leave; and Cecil cleverly contrived that
the suggestion should seem to come from Mountjoy himself. Never, we
are told, was 'a virgin bride, after a lingering and desperate love,
more longing for the celebration of her nuptial' than was Carew to
go to England; but he returned to Munster and made things quite safe
there before he started. Now that Tyrrell and O'Sullivan were gone, he
ventured to send to Athlone 500 men out of 700, which were all he had
available after providing for the garrisons and making allowances for
the sick and missing. He feared that O'Sullivan might return, but of
this there was no real danger. The war was now confined to a corner of
Ulster, and if Elizabeth had lived the fate of Tyrone might have been
like that of Desmond. To run him down was, however, a matter of extreme
difficulty, and he seems to have thought that he could get out of
Ireland if the worst came to the worst.[415]
[Sidenote: Tyrone driven into a corner.]
While Mountjoy was conferring with Carew at Galway, Docwra and
Chichester were pressing Tyrone hard. He was confined to about
200 square miles of glens and woods in the south-eastern part of
Londonderry and the easternmost corner of Tyrone, and his fighting men
scarcely exceeded 50. His numerous cattle were on the inaccessible
heights of Slieve Gallion, and he himself had several resting-places
surrounded with felled trees and protected by streams which were only
fordable in dry weather. Docwra came to Dungannon with 450 English foot
and 50 horse, and with 200 O'Cahan and 100 O'Dogherty kerne. Chichester
had a fortified post at Toom, where the Bann leaves Lough Neagh, and
he gathered there all the forces that the Ulster garrison could spare.
Letters between the two leaders for the most part miscarried, and it
was found quite impossible to converge upon Tyrone. From the very
entrance of the woods the O'Cahans ran away to their own country, and
the O'Dogherties pronounced the travelling impossible. The men sickened
fast; one guide went off to Tyrone and was followed by another, who
first contrived that cattle coming to Docwra's relief should be stolen.
Chichester penetrated farther into the woods, and fought two skirmishes
without doing much harm to his light-footed adversary. Docwra returned
to Derry two or three days after Christmas, and Chichester also
abandoned the enterprise. The country about Toom was eaten as bare
as an English common, and things were rather worse at Derry, which
was quite out of the course of trade, and equally deprived of local
supplies. It was no better in the Pale, and the whole army, now reduced
to a nominal 13,000, depended entirely upon victuals sent from England.
Even Dublin feared famine, and everyone was so worn out that it was
difficult to get any service done.[416]
[Sidenote: Famine.]
The confusion in the currency crippled trade and caused distress in the
towns. But the winter war had worked a far greater mischief among the
poor rebels in the country. Mountjoy had clearly foreseen a famine,
had done his best to bring it about, and had completely succeeded.
Multitudes lay dead in the ditches of towns and other waste places,
'with their mouths all coloured green by eating nettles, docks, and
all things they could rend up above ground.' Sir Arthur Chichester
saw children eating their mother's corpse. Captain Trevor found that
certain old women lit fires in the woods, and ate the children who came
to warm themselves. Rebels received to mercy killed troop-horses by
running needles into their throats, and then fought over the remains.
Not only were horses eaten, but cats and dogs, hawks, kites, and
other carrion birds. The very wolves were driven by starvation from
the woods, and killed the enfeebled people. The dead lay unburied, or
half-buried, for the survivors had not strength to dig deep, and dogs
ate the mouldering remains. Some fled to France or Spain, but they were
few compared to those who perished at home.[417]
[Sidenote: Tyrone and James VI.]
[Sidenote: Elizabeth and James VI.]
Had Tyrone escaped from Ireland he would have gone to Scotland, or
perhaps only to the Scotch islands. In 1597 he had offered his services
to James, complaining of hard treatment at the hands of Deputies, and
apologising for not having paid his respects sooner. While accepting
these overtures and declaring himself ready to befriend him in all his
'honest and lawful affairs,' the King, with characteristic caution,
noted that the time had not come. 'When,' he wrote, 'it shall please
God to call our sister, the Queen of England, by death, we will see
no less than your promptitude and readiness upon our advertisement to
do us service.' Tyrone took care to be on good terms with the sons
of Sorley Boy MacDonnell, to one of which, Randal, created Earl of
Antrim in the next reign, he afterwards gave his daughter. A channel
of communication with Scotland was thus always open, and it was
certainly used on both sides. Early in 1600 Tyrone thanked James for
his goodwill, and assured him that Docwra's expedition was intended to
end in the writer's extermination. This letter came into Cecil's hands,
and no doubt he was constantly well-informed. He had a Scotch spy, one
Thomas Douglas, who also acted as a messenger between James, Tyrone,
and the MacDonnells, and who carried a letter from the Duke of Lennox
to Ireland early in 1601. This did not prevent James from offering to
help Elizabeth with Highlanders against Tyrone in the same year. The
Queen thanked him heartily, but remarked that 'the rebels had done
their worst already.' It is plain that she saw through her good brother
like glass. 'Remember,' she once wrote to him, 'that who seeketh two
strings to one bow, may shoot strong but never straight; if you suppose
that princes' causes be vailed so covertly that no intelligence may
bewray them, deceive not yourself; we old foxes can find shifts to save
ourselves by others' malice, and come by knowledge of greatest secret,
specially if it touch our freehold.'[418]
[Sidenote: The question of toleration.]
Tyrone had made an unconditional submission, so far as it was possible
to make it by letter; but the Queen was very unwilling to pardon him
or to grant him anything more than bare life. At the same time there
was a disposition to press the matter of religious uniformity, and
to revive the Ecclesiastical Commission which had long lain dormant.
Vice-Treasurer Carey was not content with the mischief done by the new
coin, but must needs recommend a sharper way with recusants as a means
of pacifying the country, and perhaps of filling official pockets.
Mountjoy, whose great object was to end the war and get home, in
effect told Carey that Satan was finding mischief for his idle hands in
Dublin, while the army was half-starved, and the Lord Deputy himself
likely to be reduced to salt ling. 'If,' he wrote from Trim, 'you did
but walk up and down in the cold with us, you would not be so warm
in your religion.' Mountjoy had his way on this point, and nothing
was done to frighten the Irish unnecessarily, or to drive the towns
into Spanish alliances. He reminded Cecil that Philip II. had lost
the Netherlands by bringing in the Inquisition, and that the States,
who at one time held nearly all the provinces, had lost many of them
by pressing the matter of religion too hotly. All religions, he said,
grew by persecution, but good doctrines and example would work in time.
In the meanwhile he advised discreet handling as the only means of
avoiding a new war, of which, he said, 'many would be glad, but God
deliver us from it.'[419]
[Sidenote: Death of Queen Elizabeth.]
At the beginning of March, Mountjoy received two letters from the
Queen, written on February 6 and 17, and another from Cecil, written on
the 18th. In the first of these despatches, which were all delivered
together, Elizabeth told her Deputy to send for Tyrone on promise of
life only, and to detain him; in the second she authorised him to
offer life, liberty, and pardon; and in the third, speaking through
Cecil, she rather enlarged his powers, while laying some stress on
altering the title of Tyrone, on reducing the size of his country,
and on forcing him to keep the roads into it always open. There was
no difficulty about the last covenant, for the felling of a few trees
would always nullify it; but Mountjoy pointed out that O'Neill, and not
Tyrone, was the dangerous word, and that it was great gain to have an
earl by any name instead of a chieftain by that one. As to curtailing
the repentant rebel's land, he thought that obedience would be more
probable from one who would lose rather than gain by change. The great
Queen was no more when the letter containing this reasoning was sent,
so that we cannot tell whether she would have agreed to it or not.
On the very day of her death, commission was given to Sir William
Godolphin and Sir Garret Moore to treat with Tyrone, and he and his
adherents were protected for three weeks. Elizabeth died on March 24,
and Mountjoy knew this on the 27th; but his secretary, the historian
Moryson, had the address to prevent the news from being publicly known
before April 5, and in the meantime Tyrone had made his submission.[420]
[Sidenote: Submission of Tyrone.]
To save time under the extraordinary circumstances in which he
was placed, Mountjoy sent Godolphin to tell Tyrone that the least
hesitation would probably be fatal to him, and that his former delays
had much incensed the Queen. Godolphin was not in the secret, but
he felt that it was no time for ceremony, and in the belief that
confidence would beget confidence he rode several miles beyond
Dungannon to meet Tyrone, who readily accompanied him to the fort at
Charlemont. Next day the commissioners brought their prize early to
Mellifont, where Mountjoy lodged. There, says the secretary, who was
present, 'Tyrone being admitted to the Lord Deputy's chamber, kneeled
at the door humbly on his knees for a long space, making his penitent
submission to Her Majesty, and after being required to come nearer to
the Lord Deputy, performed the same ceremony in all humbleness, the
space of one hour or thereabouts.' He had ever preferred the substance
to the shadow, and his formal humility stood him in good stead. The
written submission was equally complete, and contained not one word
about liberty of conscience or in favour of that Church as whose
champion the Pope had sent him a crown. He renounced all dependence
upon foreign principles, and especially upon Spain, abjured the name
of O'Neill, abandoned all his claims over the lands of neighbouring
chiefs, and agreed to accept such estates only as the Queen should
grant him by patent. He promised to disclose all he knew about dealings
with Spain, to bring his son back from thence if possible, and, in
short, to do everything that might become a faithful subject of the
English crown. Mountjoy in return promised a royal pardon, and a
patent for nearly all the lands which he held before his rebellion. 300
acres were reserved for the fort of Mountjoy and 300 for Charlemont,
and Ulster was to submit to a composition as Connaught had done. On
April 4, Tyrone reached Dublin with the viceregal party, and on the
5th, Sir Henry Danvers arrived from England with official tidings of
the great change. King James was at once proclaimed, and the people
shouted for joy; but Tyrone, on whom all eyes were fixed, shed abundant
tears, and he was fain to hint at grief for the loss of the mistress
whom he had been fighting for the last ten years. 'There needed,' says
the observant secretary, 'no Oedipus to find out the true cause of
his tears; for, no doubt the most humble submission he made to the
Queen he had so highly and proudly offended, much eclipsed the vain
glory his actions might have carried if he had held out till her death;
besides that by his coming in, as it were, between two reigns, he lost
a fair advantage, for (by England's estate for the present unsettled)
to have subsisted longer in rebellion (if he had any such end) or at
least an ample occasion of fastening great merit on the new King, if at
first and of free will he had submitted to his mercy.'[421]
[Sidenote: The conquest of Ireland Queen Elizabeth's work.]
During the last four years and a half of the Queen's reign, it was
computed that the Irish war had cost her about 1,200,000_l._, and
this was an enormous demand upon the slender revenue of those days.
The drain upon the life-blood of England was also terrible. Droves of
recruits were forced annually into the ranks, to perish among the bogs
and woods, while the most distinguished officers did not escape. The
three Norrises, Clifford, Burgh, Bagenal, and Bingham died in Ireland,
while Essex and Spenser were indirectly victims of the war there. The
price was high, but it secured the conquest of Ireland. Lawyers in the
next reign might ascribe the glory to James; but the hard work was all
done ready to his hand, and it would not have been done at all had it
been left to him. It was by Elizabeth that the power of the chiefs
was broken, and until that was done neither peaceable circuits nor
commercial colonies were possible in Ireland. The method pursued was
cruel, but the desired end was attained. It is easy to find fault; but
none who love the greatness of England will withhold their admiration
from the lonely woman who repelled all attacks upon her realm, who
broke the power of Spain, and who, though surrounded by conspirators
and assassins, believed that she had a mission to accomplish, and in
that faith held her proud neck unbent to the last.
FOOTNOTES:
[398] Cecil to Mountjoy, Aug. 7 in _Moryson_; to Carew of Feb. 9, 1602,
and throughout that year in _Maclean_; Chamberlain's _Letters_, June
27, 1602.
[399] _Moryson_, May 30 to July 19, on which day Mountjoy reached
Monaghan; Chichester to Cecil, June 20 and 2_
[400] Mountjoy to Cecil, June 5, 1602, and Jan. 8, 1603; Cecil to
Windebank, June 15, 1602. Windebank read the latter to the Queen.
[401] Journal among R.O. MSS. _Ireland_, April 23 to May 7; _Pacata
Hibernia_, book ii. chaps. ii. and iii.
[402] _Pacata Hibernia_, book iii. chaps. iii. and iv.
[403] Journal, May 13 to June 1; Carew to Cecil, Aug. 6, 1601, May 29,
1602; _Pacata Hibernia_, book iii. chap. v.; Carew to Mountjoy, June 1
1602, in _Carew_.
[404] Journal June 1-17; Carew to the Privy Council, Jan. 22, 1603;
_Pacata Hibernia_, book iii. chaps. vi. vii. and viii.
[405] Journal, June 12.
[406] Journal, June 17-18.
[407] Examination of Dominic Collins, July 9, 1602; _Pacata Hibernia_
book iii. chap. ix.; _Four Masters_, 1602. There is a life of O'Colan
in _Hibernia Ignatiana_, pp. 89-102.
[408] _Four Masters_, 1602; O'Donnell to O'Connor Kerry, May 24, in
_Carew_; List of Irish refugees in _Pacata Hibernia_, book ii. chap.
xxii. The extreme claim of the O'Donnells included not only Tyrconnell,
but Tyrone, Fermanagh, and all Connaught; see Docwra's _Narration_.
[409] For James Blake's designs see Carew to Mountjoy, May 28 and Oct.
9, in _Carew_ and _Pacata Hibernia_, book iii. chap. xv. The story of
John Anias may be read in the Life of Florence MacCarthy, Maclean's
_Letters_ of Cecil to Carew, and in _Pacata Hibernia_, book iii. chap.
vii. For Tyrconnell's case see Wotton to James I., April 24, 1608, in
Russell and Prendergast's _Calendar_, and his subsequent letters in the
same volume.
[410] Lambert to Mountjoy, June 18, 1602; _Four Masters_.
[411] Docwra's _Narration_, 1602 till April 20. Docwra to the Privy
Council, March 11.
[412] Docwra's _Narration_, June to September; Tyrone to O'Connor Sligo
in Moryson, book iii. chap. ii.; Mountjoy to Lambert, Sept. 12; Lord
Dunkellin and Sir A. Savage to Mountjoy, Aug. 7; Mountjoy to Cecil,
Oct. 12.
[413] _Pacata Hibernia_, book iii. chaps. xii. and xiv.; Cecil to
Carew, Oct. and Nov. 4; Privy Council to Carew, Dec. 16--all in _Carew_.
[414] O'Sullivan Bere, _Hist. Cath._ tom. iii. lib. vii. chaps. viii.
to xii. The Four Masters describe this wonderful march to Aughrim, and
are perhaps preferable as far as they go. See also _Pacata Hibernia_,
book iii. chap. xvii. The itinerary is as follows, as near as I can
make it out:--1. (Jan. 4) Ballyvourney; 2. Pobble O'Keefe (near
Millstreet); 3. Ardpatrick (in Limerick); 4. Solloghead (near Limerick
Junction); 5 and 6. Ballinakill (in Tipperary); 7. Latteragh (eight
miles south of Nenagh); 8. Loughkeen; 9 and 10. Portland; 11. Aughrim
(in Galway); 12. Ballinlough (in Roscommon); 13 and 14. Woods near
Boyle; 15. Knockvicar; 16. Leitrim. The dates are made clear by Carew's
letter to the Privy Council, Jan. 22, 1603, in _Carew_.
[415] Tyrone to Mountjoy, Dec. 12/22, 1602, and March 19/29, 1603;
Moryson, book iii. chap. i.; _Pacata Hibernia_, book iii. chap. xx.;
Carew to the Privy Council, Jan. 22, in _Carew_, and Cecil's letter to
Carew, _passim_; O'Connor Sligo to Cecil, March 1, 1603.
[416] Docwra's _Narration_, December; Bodley's visit to Lecale in vol.
ii. of _Ulster Arch. Journal_; Capt. Thomas Phillips to Cecil, July 27,
1602; Mayor and Sheriffs of Dublin to Cecil, Jan. 17, 1603; Mountjoy to
Cecil, Jan. 8 and 20; Docwra to the Privy Council, Feb. 23.
[417] Moryson, part iii. book iii. chaps. i. and v.; O'Sullivan, tom.
iii. lib. viii. cap. 6; _Four Masters_, 1603. In describing his visit
to Lecale at the beginning of 1603, Bodley casually remarks that the
Irish soldiers ate grass--_vescuntur gramine_. Moryson says the wild
Irish 'willingly eat the herb shamrock, being of a sharp taste, which
as they run and are chased to and fro, they snatch like beasts out of
the ditches.' This passage is conclusive proof that the wood-sorrel
was called shamrock in the sixteenth century; see above, note to chap.
xxxix. Modern claimants to the title of shamrock are the white clover,
the common trefoil (_medicago lupulina_), and the bog-bean (_menyanthes
trifoliata_); but none of these are edible by men.
[418] Queen Elizabeth to King James VI., June or July, 1585, in Bruce's
_Letters_ of those two sovereigns, also Dec. 2, Feb. 3, 1601-2, and
'after July,' 1602; James VI. to Tyrone, Aug. 10, 1597, in _Lansdowne
MSS._; Tyrone to James VI., April 10, 1600, in Scotch _Calendar_; and
the letters printed in _Ulster Arch. Journal_, vol. v. pp. 205-8.
[419] Mountjoy to Cecil, Jan. 20, 1603; to Vice-Treasurer Carey, Jan.
25; Lord Deputy and Council to the Privy Council, Feb. 26 (draft in
_Carew_).
[420] Cecil to Mountjoy, Feb. 18, 1603, in _Carew_; Moryson, book iii.
chap. ii.
[421] Moryson, book iii. chap. ii.